Habits Of My Heart
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Pansy is arranged to marry Draco, but her friend is not the Malfoy her heart desires.


_Word Count: 1842_

_For the Convince Me Competition, round one (NarcissaPansy)_

* * *

Pansy hates this. Despite all her fawning and doting during their school days, she does not actually fancy Draco at all. She was young and dumb, and she did what her father insisted needed to be done; she played her part as a ridiculous little pawn in his game.

Now she's paying dearly for it. She stares at the diamond on her finger, trying to understand why it feels like a heavy weight.

Neither she nor Draco wants this to happen, but they are both powerless to stop it. She can bat her eyes and throw all the fits she wants. Her father and Lucius Malfoy have made the arrangement. She and Draco must continue to play their parts.

She pauses in front of an ornate silver mirror in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor, studying her reflection. Her dark hair has been neatly brushed, and her features have been softened and made delicate by subtle touches of makeup. It's just one of the many lessons her mother has forced her to sit through: how to present herself as a picture-perfect pure-blood. Appearances are everything, after all.

And now she has another lesson to sit through, this time with her future mother-in-law. At least Narcissa Malfoy is much kinder than Pansy's own mother. Maybe this lesson will be more tolerable.

"Good." Narcissa sweeps into the room with an easy elegance Pansy could never dream of accomplishing. "Punctuality is a good trait to have. It is never acceptable to leave anyone waiting."

Pansy nods. She doesn't really care about what is acceptable and unacceptable. All she wants is to get through this lesson and be done with it.

"If I may ask, what is this about?" Pansy asks, folding her arms over her chest.

"Your father noticed that you do not actually love my son."

Pansy swallows dryly. There's nothing harsh in Narcissa's voice. It is little more than a clear and simple fact. Still, even if it isn't a judgement, it makes Pansy shift nervously. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Narcissa laughs. She draws her wand and gives it a quick wave. A silver tea set lands on the table, followed by a platter of sandwiches and fruit. "No need to be coy, dear," she says, sitting down and pouring herself some tea. "Do you take sugar?"

"Just milk." Pansy hesitates before sitting across from the older woman. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand why anyone would think I don't love Draco."

"Because none of us are blind. You love Draco about as much as I loved my own husband when our fathers made the arrangement." She sets the teacup in front of Pansy before preparing her own. "You know that if you can't play your part, both of our families' reputations are destroyed."

"Do you love him now?" Pansy asks. "You didn't love Lucius before... Did that change?"

The way Narcissa stiffens is all the answer that Pansy needs. The older woman's lips purse like she's tasted something sour. She focuses her attention on the teacup, seemingly reluctant to look at Pansy. No. Narcissa never learned to love Lucius.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Pansy sips her tea, dark eyes fixed upon Narcissa.

"Once."

Curious, Pansy sets her cup down. "What was his name?"

Instead of answering, Narcissa rushes to her feet, abandoning the light meal. "You're free to eat whatever you'd like," she says. "I believe we are done for the day."

…

Draco doesn't seem surprised when Pansy tells him about the meeting with his mother. The two of them walk along the path in the park.

"Father has been offering me similar instructions," he says with a shrug. "Reputation is everything."

"So everyone keeps saying."

But she knows it's true. Now, more than ever, her family needs some good notoriety. The world has yet to forget about her outburst in the Great Hall before the battle began. The Malfoys still have their shame, but Harry Potter has saved them and helped repair their reputation.

"Does your father love your mother?" Pansy asks.

Draco shrugs again, stepping off the path and leading Pansy to the swings. "In his own way," he answers.

She wonders if he knows it isn't mutual. She doesn't say anything, it isn't her place to tell him.

"You okay?" he asks.

Pansy sits on the nearest swing. In the distance, she can see a few nosey mothers giving her dirty looks; she scowls right back at them. "Just thinking."

Draco comes up behind her and grips the chain of the swing, pulling her back. "That's never good. Whose life are you planning to destroy now?"

"No one's!" She shakes her head, giggling as he releases the swing. "Just thinking how much simpler it would be if you were a woman."

"Close your eyes and pretend," he suggests with a laugh.

Pansy rolls her eyes. It isn't that simple. Pretending is what lead to this mess in the first place. Being herself, admitting to who she truly is and how she loves is far too dangerous.

"Shame your mother is married." She glances over her shoulder, smirking when she sees him grimace.

"Merlin, Pansy. My mother is _old_!"

"Older," Pansy corrects.

She's mostly joking. Mostly. There is definitely a part of her that wonders what it would be like. Narcissa Malfoy is one of the most beautiful women, and she carries herself with a grace Pansy has never seen in anyone else before. There's no denying the attraction.

"You're disgusting," he says.

Pansy shrugs. A girl can dream.

…

She meets Narcissa again for another lesson. This time, Narcissa goes more in depth. Pansy sits through a boring lecture about personal sacrifice for the sake of family honor, and Pansy can hear the faintest hint of bitterness in her voice.

"You must have really loved him," Pansy says.

"Who?"

"Whoever it is that you loved before."

Narcissa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. It's the closest to vulnerable Pansy has ever seen her. When she opens her eyes again, she is perfectly composed. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Pansy rolls her eyes. She doesn't know why Narcissa would bother to play dumb; Pansy already knows part of the truth. "You can tell me. Was it your sister's husband?" Pansy's jaw drop. "It wasn't the Mudblood, was it?"

"_Muggleborn_," Narcissa says sharply. "And no, though she was a Muggleborn."

_She. _Pansy's eyes widen. Of course there would be other pureblood women out there like her, women who could never dare to love who they wanted to love. She would have never guessed Narcissa would be one of them.

"What was her name?"

Narcissa doesn't answer.

"My first love was Daphne Greengrass," Pansy tells her. "Draco helped cover for me so no one would suspect anything."

Narcissa's nostrils flare. She opens her mouth to speak but seems to reconsider. Several seconds pass before she regains her composure. "This really isn't appropriate."

Pansy moves closer, intrigued. She knows she shouldn't do this, but it's hard to resist the temptation. "Why not?"

There is barely any space between them now. Pansy's nerve begins to falter, and she can feel her heart pounding painfully within her chest. Narcissa is right. This _is _inappropriate.

And yet she doesn't want to walk away. As cliche as it may seem, she doesn't care if it's wrong when it feels so right.

"You should…" Narcissa swallows dryly. "You should really…"

Exactly what Pansy should do, she will never know. Narcissa leans down, pressing her lips to Pansy's.

It isn't some great, dramatic thing. There are no fireworks, no feelings of how this is the most perfect thing ever. It's just a kiss, but it still makes her heart flutter. For the first time in a long time, Pansy doesn't feel so alone.

"That was wrong," Narcissa whispers, looking over her shoulder like someone might be there to cast their judgment, like this is some great scheme to destroy her.

"Does it really matter?" Pansy asks, tugging anxiously at her dark hair.

It does, of course. That's the problem. It matters too much because they are meant to be perfect, obedient women to the men they marry. This is the worst kind of betrayal.

"It can never be anything more than this," Narcissa says. "You know that, don't you?"

Pansy nods. It's an unfortunate truth, but there's no way around it. Still, maybe she can be okay with it. If she can only have Narcissa like this, hidden away and in secret, she will happily take it.

"Good." Narcissa steps away, smoothing out a crease in her dress. "Now that we're in agreement, I believe you still have lessons."

…

Lessons slowly change. Soon, food and etiquette are all but forgotten, and Pansy spends her afternoons wrapped in Narcissa's arms, falling so slowly and completely.

They're destined for heartbreak, but Pansy really can't bring herself to care. All that matters is that she has afternoons filled with stolen kisses and enough sweet moments to fill her heart.

…

"What if I didn't go through with the wedding?" Pansy murmurs, stroking Narcissa's blonde hair affectionately. "We could run away."

"We couldn't," Narcissa says, rolling onto her back and grazing her fingers over Pansy's cheek.

But what if they could? It's easier for Pansy because she doesn't have a husband. Narcissa doesn't have that same freedom, but she can still get out. They don't have to stay hidden and play by the rules.

With a sigh, Narcissa sits up. She takes Pansy's hand gently in her own. "We agreed that we couldn't be more than this," she tells her.

"I'm not the only one who fell." Pansy's voice is soft and trembling, and the doubt is so painfully clear in her words.

"No, you aren't." Narcissa climbs to her feet and turns her back to Pansy. "You will marry Draco, and this will all remain in the past."

Pansy's chest aches. She sucks in a deep breath and shakes her head. They were never meant to last, but shouldn't they have a chance? Does it really have to end like this?

She tries to imagine her future. Draco could make her happy, but only as a friend. She would still have to see Narcissa and remember how close she was to having something that felt right. She will always be reminded that her own happiness means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"I don't think that I will," Pansy says.

She doesn't even plan to say it, doesn't even think. Rebellion has never been her style, but it fits so perfectly. Why should she care about reputation and honor when her parents have never cared about her? She stands a little taller and holds her head high, unable to resist a grin.

Maybe she and Narcissa are not meant to be, but it doesn't matter. Her happily ever after is still out there somewhere. All she has to do is find the courage to seek it out.

And so she will.


End file.
